


Every turn a surprise

by TMS33



Series: Shots With Potential [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dimension Travel, F/M, Female Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMS33/pseuds/TMS33
Summary: People like her café. There's nothing wrong with that. She just didn't expect supers to like it so much as well.Or, Steve comes across a café and Harry gains a new regular.Part 2 of A whole new world





	Every turn a surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Found this in the back of my computer. Here's a mini-continuation of "A whole new world".

Steve sighed as he walked back to the Avenger’s Tower, cap pulled down low as he traveled through the crowds. He had just finished his workout in one of the local gyms, preferring the basic equipment and atmosphere as compared to the gym Tony had set up for the entire team. He was only staying around New York for a month due to a lead coming out on Tony’s radar. Until they finished finding the base, he wouldn't be going back to his SHIELD-paid apartment any time soon. 

He continued to walk slowly, in no rush despite everyone else nearly brisk-walking around him. Avengers tower was only a few blocks away, but he didn’t really look forward to coming back to his empty room with nothing to do. As he readjusted his gym bag hanging on his shoulder, he spotted a small café, the same one he had seen nearly two months ago. Despite the classic brick built and lack of modern designs he was used to seeing in the area, it was doing quite well, with quite a few customers lounging away inside. With a quick check, he found a few bills in his bag, and decided to enter the shop.

He pushed the glass door open, the usual sound of chimes he had found in most shops absent. It wasn’t unusual though. He had entered many shops (that mermaid coffee shop being one of them) that didn’t have any chimes. But the lack of personnel behind the desk made him silently think on the shop’s need for one. Still, he didn’t let the lack of workers unnerve him. None of the customers seemed bothered by it, so he continued to the front, reaching the marble countertop laden with bronze antique cash register sitting on top. There were no fancy glass cases showcasing any sort of baked goods. Rather, all the breads and desserts were lade out in baskets, the more fragile frosting coated goods kept inside metal cake holders. The walls were full of strange looking glass bottles, carefully placed on floating wooden shelves. The entire wall was packed, with only enough space for swinging door and window that showed a preview of a bustling kitchen in the back. Curious about the baked goods, he began looking through them, finding some interesting shapes and colors in each basket. His eyes then caught a basket near the corner filled with goodies with familiar symbols, one of them being his shield.

“The New York Heroes desserts haven’t been popular for a while.” A thick, accented voice suddenly spoke, catching him off guard. His eyes immediately flew up, only to see a young woman with the greenest eyes he’s ever seen behind the counter. Her dark hair was tied in a messy bun at the nape of her neck, some stray hairs barely covering a thin scar that went down her forehead. She was thin, almost dainty. But as he eyed her a bit more closely, he recognized the same kind of sickly thin he used to see in the mirror when he was younger. As his eyes flew back to her face, his face went red at how rude he must have seemed, having forgotten to reply in favor of staring at her. 

“I-uhhh–you,“ he stuttered, a bit on edge at her sudden appearance.

She smiled, brushing his lack of words with a wave of her hand. “I’m not one to judge. I have a few regulars who are always looking for those anyway. So what can I get you?”

He smiled back in return, futilely trying to compose himself in front of the watchful eyes of the raven-haired lady. “Just a large plain coffee, please.”

He grimaced, thinking she wouldn't understand. People didn't really say that anymore, did they? However, rather than pester him on what sort of strange concoction (what was it with other café's thinking he wanted a macchiato?) he might have wanted, she simply smiled, taking a few steps towards an ancient looking cash register and pulling a few levers (it was much older than he suspected, not having any buttons whatsoever). “Nothing from the basket?”

He took another quick glance before meekly looking back at her. “I’ll have one of those cookies. The shield one.”

She grinned, happy to sell her goods to another customer. “Sure thing. That’ll be $8.45.”

Steve began digging through his bag, finding four dollar bills, and handed them to her, her tiny hand almost completely covered by his larger one.

“Ok,” she noted, before bringing out one of those more advanced receipt printers from under the counter. “Nine dollars…that leaves fifty-five cents…” She quickly began tapping her fingers on the rubber buttons, only to let out a frustrated groan as the screen lit up with a big ‘ERROR’.

He couldn't help but feel pity for her as she tried to fix the printer in her hands, able to relate with her frustration when it came to technology. Just as he was about to suggest that she keep the change  _and the receipt_ , she hollered for someone in the back. “Peter! I need your help with the receipt machine again!”

A head suddenly came in view through the window, calling back at the green-eyed woman. “I’ll get it in just a sec, Harry! Just leave it on the ledge!”

Steve noted the young voice, no doubt belonging to a teen. But before he could take a closer look at the brunet working inside the kitchens, the figure disappeared. Harry quickly left the black box on the ledge, sighing in frustration, before turning back to him. “Sorry about that. I’ll just fix your drink and cookie while Peter gets that thing printed. Would you like me to toast the cookie?”

Steve nodded. “If it’s not too much trouble, Ma’am.”

She gave a friendly smile before grabbing a pair of tongs from behind the baskets and taking the chosen cookie from the basket. She moved to and fro with a natural grace, bringing the cookie with her to another set of machines, all antique, before placing it in what seemed to be a tiny old-school microwave. After quickly setting the time with the brass knob, she quickly grabbed a paper cup and began making his desired drink.

“So what brings you to my tiny little shop?” She asked randomly, eyes trained on the machine.

Steve felt nervous trying to answer, not entirely confident when it came to talking to people when he was unfamiliar with most of the events since he fell into the ice. “I, uhh, just finished at the gym, and I passed by your shop before, so I decided to try it out.”

“Looks a bit weird surrounded by all those tall metal buildings, yeah?” she suddenly questioned. He could only give a small nod in reply, unsure of how to respond without accidentally insulting her. “I couldn’t really bear to let go of the building though. The previous owner didn’t want to see it fall and become one of those monstrosities.”

Steve shrugged, not sure about how he should reply to that. Harry didn’t even seem to notice his lack of words, and continued talking with no hesitation. “I started making those desserts last week, though the only people who seemed interested were kids.”

Steve smiled at that, touched to know that even though a lot of adults were against them, the kidsof New York still held faith in them. Harry quickly capped the drink with a plastic lid before grabbing a paper bag and placing the cookie inside. Just as she was about to hand the food over to him, the kitchen doors opened, revealing a flour dusted teen with the black receipt-printer at hand.

“Here's the receipt,” he informed Harry, pulling out a small piece of paper from his hoodie pocket. Already, he could tell the teen recognized him from the visible double-take he did, jaw dropping as he finally realized just who was in front of the counter. “Holy –“

“Language, Peter. Not in front of the customers,” Harry chastised, cutting him off.

His eyes scrunched up as he gave her a incredulous look, hands nearly waving at Steve’s awkward form. “Harry, that’s–“

“–a customer who no doubt needs his receipt. Be a dear and give it to him while I get his change, will you?” She said, oblivious to the boy’s sputtering and wide-eyed gaze.

“But Harry–“

“Ma’am–“

Both immediately shut up after accidentally cutting each other off. Steve nervously chuckled at that before taking the food from Peter, the teen looking at him with some sort of reverence. Just as Peter was about to open his mouth, Harry interrupted, “Peter–the baguettes, remember? Go on then. Wrap them up while they’re still warm.”  Not giving him another chance to say anything, she plucked the receipt from his hands and nudged him away from the counter. 

Peter let out another anguished groan, muttering about devious bosses, before finally turning around and heading back inside. Steve let out a grimace, feeling a bit bad for the kid. Before he could let it linger on his thoughts much longer, Harry cut him off. “Well, here you go, Mister."

Steve nodded gratefully while accepting the change. “Thanks, Ma’am.”

Harry gave a small smile. “You’re welcome. Have a good day, sir.”

“You too.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a One-Shot (which is why it's in the 'Shots With Potential' Series) with the potential to become a real story. To be decided...


End file.
